Dawn
by Qu0thTheRavenNeverm0re
Summary: At this point, the man came to a halt. His eyes remained fixated on the floor, staring intently, as if he was looking her in the eye. But he would never have the courage to do that; no, Salazar Slytherin did not turn around. SalazarRowenaGodric. No slash.


**Oh my Godric, I'm gonna do it. I'm gonna write a Founders fic. Oh my god. Oh my god. Here it is!**

**Oh, and this is most likely going to end up being a Helena Ravenclaw fic. But I was rather proud with my work and decided to give this prologue some attention of its own for awhile. I've been planning it since the beginning of August, you see, and I didn't want the summary to be misleading to what this story is so far.**

**Anyway, enjoy **

The stairs were beautifully crafted, carved by careful hand out of the finest marble. They curved throughout the castle, clinging to the stony walls, unfurling into a pearly white sculpture that danced and writhed like sea foam. The regularly polished banister glistened, also the color of ivory, in the dim candlelight that flickered sinister shadows on the walls. Every object in the hall stood stiff and alert, prepared to jump up and flee on the smallest disturbance. Something was about to happen.

A low vibration slowly began to pulse throughout the vast room, bouncing off the walls. It became clear that the sound was of footsteps, strong and fast and even. The noise grew louder and soon, another series of sounds began to echo in tandem with the first. However, these ones were much more delicate; the petite tapping contrasted greatly next to the rhythm of the harsher, louder noise. The syncopated song grew louder as they descended the steps until the sources came into view.

The first to round the corner was a man, strongly built and of dark complexion. His hair was uncombed, face unshaven, eyes bloodshot- it was obvious he had recently been subjected to much stress lately. He strode with a determined gait, his eyes locked on nothing but the looming doors ahead of him. Any witness could be sure of one thing: he intended to escape.

Another figure rounded the corner, a woman this time. She was slender and of average height, with long dark hair and porcelain skin. Her green-brown eyes shone with intelligence and wisdom. From watching her posture and the way she held her head and shoulders, she seemed someone who would normally be dignified and highly respected. Tonight, however, her expression was full of pain and disbelief, hurrying after the man that was rushing to get away from her.

"Salazar," she called, sinking closer to defeat with every step. "Please."

The man continued forward, but a careful observer would have seen his shoulders tense at the sound of her voice. He shook his head tightly and gritted his teeth. "Rowena, must I tell you again?"

Her expression, and her spirits, drooped further at these words. "You can speak the same words a thousand times, Salazar Slytherin, but it will take a thousand more before I begin to believe you."

"Then I am prepared to address you one million times. I've already told you that I'm not changing my mind."

"But what about Godric, and Helga? What about the school, the students, what we've worked so hard for all these years? What about _us_?" Her voice dropped to a quavering whisper on these words. Tears, like diamonds, formed in clusters at the corner of her eyes.

At this point, the man came to a halt. His eyes remained fixated on the floor, staring intently, as if he was looking her in the eye. But he would never have to courage to do that; no, Salazar Slytherin did not turn around. He breathed in, then exhaled, trying to keep his cool. Whether he would have screamed or sobbed, he did not know- instead, he spoke, quietly, yet full of emotions that were fighting against restrain.

"You can keep your silly little school, for all I care. As for Godric, I have completely lost faith in him due to his disgusting sympathy for mudbloods and filth poisoning our elite wizarding society. I know this wretched place is only getting closer to failure every day, and I have no intention to be a part of it any longer. I've wasted enough of my life here already."

Rowena only stared at him, at the man she had once loved. Her expression was no longer readable.

"And what about us?" The murmur was barely intelligible.

This time, Salazar did spin around to face her. They gazed into each other's faces for what could have been hours, her stare of earth and emerald meeting his near-obsidian one. For a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her, and he thought he was going to too, but in the end, he merely shook his head, whirled around, and walked out of her life forever.

…

"You disgust me."

The new voice Salazar also immediately recognized; this new voice, however, could not be more different from Rowena's. It was strong, confident, and demanding, like a burning fire that threatened to scorch you to a pile of dusty grey ashes. Furthermore contrasting the exchange with Rowena, Salazar stopped walking and immediately turned to look at a man with fiery red hair and blazing blue eyes.

"Godric, I hardly see how this matter concerns you," Salazar hissed icily.

"It has everything to do with me!" Godric growled. "We all know you hate muggle-borns, but if you think we're naïve enough not to know the _real_ reason you're abandoning us…" Salazar made motion to speak but remained silent. Godric continued on. "Rowena needs you, Salazar, right now more than ever. I just can't see how you can walk away from her like an old horse, something you've enjoyed but now tire of, something replaceable..." Godric stared into the distance, eyes brimming with something new. "I've watched her, all these years, I've watched her fall in love with you and said nothing; I cared for her too much to dare bestow any feelings of guilt on her. But I always thought that you loved her more than I did, so I let you be, and today we've all discovered I was wrong, very wrong. You never truly loved her, did you?"

Salazar's face contorted with anger. "Who are you to say how much I loved her?" he snarled. "You think she's just an act of charity, don't you? Rowena is a smart woman, we all know that. I know she's capable of taking care of herself."

"Yes, but can she take care of two?" The sickening feeling of a suspected truth being confirmed spread throughout Salazar's chest as Godric smiled humorlessly. They faced each other as if on a battlefield, but the truth was that it _was_ a war. A war between whims, a war between truths, a war between two enemies who had once been friends. The grass between their feet crackled in the midnight mist as, for the second time that evening, Salazar withdrew himself from confrontation and was swallowed by the murky night.

…

"I can't believe he's gone."

Godric glanced to his right to see that Rowena had come outside to stand next to him. The beauty of her soft features seemed magnified, angelic almost, in the mystic starlight. They stood in silence until she spoke again.

"Do you think he left, well, because of me?"

She peered up into his face, pleading for acceptance, for love she had previously thought only Salazar could give her. But Salazar had left, proving that he cared for her no more. At least, that was how he had made her feel. And now, just as Godric had dared hope ever since they had met, Rowena was his. No, he was Rowena's. They could be each other's, and the dawn of a new beginning had been marked with every word spoken today.

His chiseled features smiled warmly. "That man was a cheat and a coward. He was only concerned with what was best for him. We'll all be better off without him."

He took her delicate hands in his rough, strong ones. Slowly, gently, he planted his lips onto her forehead for a kiss, a chaste yet nonetheless daring action that only Godric Gryffindor would have the courage to do. Rowena said nothing in reply; either she approved or was simply too distracted to care, Godric could not tell. But let it be known that Rowena did notice him, had always noticed him, and knew that Godric would never, ever leave, even if the stars fell from the sky.

"I'll take care of you," he murmured as the edges of the sky began to tint grey with the coming sun. The precise color of phoenix ashes, just before it is reborn into a great creature of flame.

"Of both of you."

**AHHHHHHHHH I DID IT! Watch this story get zero reviews. I must say that I am indeed pleased with this so far, and I'm sorry if it bothers you that their appearances don't exactly match up with the books. If it makes you feel any better, this is the most noncanon thing I've ever committed in my lifetime and ever plan to commit. Who says Godric Gryffindor **_**has**_** to have a beard? Hope you liked **


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